Mysteries In the Snow
by Nightcrawlerlover
Summary: It's December, and Buffy is at the Kame Game Shop, where Yugi and Yami both live. She's trying to overcome her writer's block by coming up with a poem – not for school, just for fun. But her efforts have failed her. Then Yami helps her out.


**Hey there! I was looking up poems about snow that were written by famous people, so I did a search about that using the Google search engine, clicked on the website called "Famous Poets and Poems", and there they were – just what I had been looking for. It was a good thing, too, because I had been looking for inspiration using the word "snow" as a prompt, and a very good one, too. **

**So, here's what I cooked up. It's December, and Buffy Summers is at the Kame Game Shop, where Yugi and Yami both live. She's trying to overcome her writer's block by coming up with a poem – not for school, just for fun. But so far, her efforts have failed her. **

**This is an Alternate Universe, of course; Buffy is eight years old, and her parents are away on vacation (so she is staying at the game shop) for two weeks. (Luckily, they trust Solomon Moto, the owner of the game shop, to watch over Buffy, as she likes it there. Of course, Yugi and Yami have taken a liking to her as well, as they view Buffy as the little sister they never had. Plus, in this Alternate Universe, Buffy's cousin Celia is still alive, and has not been killed by Der Kindestod (from the Season 2 episode "Killed by Death") as another Slayer, who had been sick with the flu, killed him by breaking his neck. **

**Disclaimer: Genius Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Kazuki Takahashi owns Yu-Gi-Oh. The poem "as the snow fell" belongs to ****Rg Gregory. The lyrics of the ****song Once Upon a December by Deana Carter belong to their respective owners. I own the oneshots, songfics, stories, poems and novellas I cook up from time to time. **

Mysteries in The Snow

_the children played games  
>getting from here<br>to where the truth was  
>without touching a flake<em>

_needless to say_  
><em>the only ones who got there<em>  
><em>were liars<em>

_but while the honest ones_  
><em>shrank back from<em>  
><em>the touch of snow<em>  
><em>the liars<em>  
><em>were where the truth was<em>

-Rg Gregory, **as the snow fell**

Eight-year-old Buffy Summers sighed as she looked out the window of the Kame Game Shop. Outside the window, snow was falling, hissing in a kind-of-very-nice way as it hit the glass. She did like snow, and it was kind of nice to look at, but now, she wanted to get some inspiration, ideas... anything just to overcome her writer's block.

Buffy had been struck with writer's block two weeks ago, when she had sat down to write a poem about snow and ice, and what they interpreted to her. But so far... her efforts had accomplished nothing.

If only there was something, anything that could really cheer her up right now...

"Is something troubling you, my dear little one?" asked a very familiar, baritone voice.

Buffy turned to look, and there he was. Yami. Her big brother figure. _Hmm... maybe __**he **__could help me out, _she thought, and then grinned to herself.

"Hey there, Yami. As a matter of fact, there **is **something bothering me."

Yami walked up to her, and then sat down beside her, sensing she wanted to talk to someone – a person she trusted. "Please," he said, wanting to hear everything. "You can tell me. I'm very good at interpreting things."

"Well, you see, Yami," Buffy began, "I'm trying to get some inspiration... some ideas, if you will... for a poem I'm trying to write."

"Ah," Yami remarked after thinking a bit (as that was part of his style). "No wonder you're so quiet today. I can tell. Now let me ask you something – something I haven't asked anybody for quite a long time... about five thousand years, to be exact."

Buffy waited patiently for him to ask her what it was that was on his mind. Inside, she was quite surprised. Her big brother figure – Yami – was actually five thousand years old? To her, he looked old enough to be in high school, or in college, of course.

"Buffy," Yami said after some time, "do you believe in the concept of... reincarnation, or a past life, maybe?"

Buffy thought for a moment, while it was now Yami's turn to wait patiently. He had heard the expression "Patience is a virtue", and had asked Yugi what it meant. Yugi, who Yami felt knew a lot about this day and age, as well as so many expressions and their meanings, explained that it meant "the ability to wait for something without getting angry or upset, and that it is a valuable quality in a person".

"You see, Yami," Yugi had said a few hours before, "a patient person gets mad more slowly then someone without patience. Anger can cause conflict and division between people. And, not being patient on the road can lead to bad accidents."

Yami smiled to himself as he remembered. Then, he focused as Buffy then replied, "To be honest... well, sure, I do. I think it's kind of a fascinating subject to study. Why do you ask?"

Yami then smiled as he thought for a moment, and then said, "Well, Buffy, it's because I was once a Pharaoh in a past life – five thousand years ago, to be precise."

Buffy blinked, surprised at both those words, and the shortness of Yami's explanation of why he asked her if she believed in reincarnation or a past life.

"Wow," she replied, and then picked up the notebook and pencil (which, luckily for her, had an eraser just in case she made any mistakes while writing), and steadied the notebook on her knees. Next, she turned to a clean page in the notebook and began to write, with Yami watching her...

_Snow, snow, snow, snow_

_From the grey sky it falls, and nowhere does it abide_

_I sit in the window and wonder_

_What does snow really feel like inside?_

_Falling snow, falling snow,_

_And I can truly see_

_That beneath the whiteness and texture_

_is a very big mystery_

Deciding to end the poem there, Buffy then put her pencil down and then looked up at Yami to see that the look on his visage – a handsome one, according to all the girls she had talked with, including her cousin Celia – was a very thoughtful one.

"How extraordinary," he said after Buffy gave him the notebook with the poem in it so he could read it, as she wanted feedback on it and to hear how she did on the poem itself. "I like it. Very well-written and brilliant as well. You did great on this poem, I must say. But, tell me, Buffy," he said as he gave her back the notebook, "what poem did you read to suddenly get ideas to write this one?"

Buffy blushed a bit, smiling as she did so, and then picked up a piece of paper she had printed out from a laptop, and handed it to Yami. On the page was the poem itself; it was called "as the snow falls" and it was by Rg Gregory.

"Ah, I see."

He then handed it back to her, and then got up, walked over to the CD player and pressed Play. Instantly, a song – a very familiar one – began to fill the room with its beautiful notes. Buffy's eyes lit up as she smiled. This, she knew, was one of her favorite songs...

_Dancing bears, painted wings,  
>Things I almost remember<br>And a song someone sings,  
>Once upon a December<em>

_Someone holds me safe and warm_  
><em>Horses prance through a silver storm<em>  
><em>Figures dancing gracefully<em>  
><em>Across my memory<em>

_(Instrumental Interlude)_

_Someone holds me safe and warm_  
><em>Horses prance through a silver storm<em>  
><em>Figures dancing gracefully<em>  
><em>Across my memory<em>

_Far away, long ago_  
><em>Glowing dim as an ember<em>  
><em>Things my heart used to know<em>  
><em>Things it yearns to remember<em>

_And a song_  
><em>Someone sings<em>  
><em>Once upon a December<em>

As the song faded into the air, Yami then turned to Buffy and said,  
>"Well, I wish you the best of luck with anything else you decide to write, Buffy."<p>

"Thank you, Yami," Buffy replied.

As Yami then turned and left, Buffy turned back to the window and looked outside. The snow was still falling, but now, to Buffy it didn't seem so... well, uninspiring. Not one bit at all.

Instead, it was now something to watch, be awed by, and – of course – be inspired to write something by.


End file.
